


Empty Hearted

by Chroniclerofthelosttales



Series: Good Things Come to Those Who Wait [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-18 22:45:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1445584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chroniclerofthelosttales/pseuds/Chroniclerofthelosttales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you're like me then you don't really like Milah. You might think she is selfish, and a little heartless... But how could Captain Killian Jones fall in love with this woman if he is an honorable man that holds the value of family, love, and good form in the highest regards? Well here is the story of how a honorable man "fell in love" with a not-so-noble woman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Empty Hearted

**Author's Note:**

> So I started this a long time ago and now I'm finally finishing it. But I feel like it could go well with this Sunday's episode. In a way. So here you go!  
> And it is mostly about Milah, btw. But Killian Jones does get his moments.

Milah's fists were clenched as she made her way down the dirt road to the tavern. Again. She found herself there often nowadays, drinking away the humiliation that came with being married to the coward called Rumplestiltskin. Her lip curled in distain at the thought of her husband. She had never truly loved him. Certainly, there was a time when she had been quite fond of him, but that was ages ago. Before the ogre wars.

            In those now forgotten days they had been happy enough. Even though they had never had true love they still cared for and respected one another, and Rumple was an honest an honorable man who would always do right by his family. But in truth Milah had married him for the comfortable life he would have been able to provide for her. He had been a protégé amongst spinsters and made fair money through his trade. She had not believed in true love anyways, and perhaps this would be the best life would have to offer her; so she took it.

            She regretted it now, and clenched her teeth in bitterness. _Should have married the blacksmith when I had the chance,_ she thought. At least then she wouldn't have to be ashamed of who she was, hiding indoors to escape the (imagined) scrutiny and slights of passerby's, and blacksmithing was honest work. Now she dreamed to be free. Free of her husband, free of his reputation, his humiliation, and free to explore the world, have an adventure and be brave, like Rumple never would be. She wanted to prove she wasn't like him.

            All these thoughts passed her mind as she strode down the path to the tavern. Her dark thoughts made her think that maybe today she would drink twice as much as usual. She had finally arrived and pushed open the wooden door, taking in the dark atmosphere, the smell of ale and smoke, and the loud obnoxious noise of rowdy men. The sight was strangely comforting, but something seemed different, and yet she couldn't quite place it.

            The bartender had just passed her a pint of ale, and she had to raise her voice over the noise of the crowd for her to hear her thanks. She turned around and was caught by surprise. There were strangers at the bar, and they were sitting at her table. This wouldn't do, certainly not tonight when she was not in the best of moods. She gallantly strode over to the spot prepared to chide them for their ignorance. "You folks certainly aren't from around here," she said, her tone betraying her irritation. They hushed and looked at her with smoldering eyes. Perhaps this wasn't a good idea.

            "And why would you say that lass?" a voice called from the other end of the table. The speaker was dressed in a black leather coat and a scarlet vest, both adorned with many buttons. The contrast of his black hair made his blue eyes sparkle brilliantly, even in the dim light of the tavern. Milah had to admit that he was quite dashing. If she was honest with herself she would even go so far as to say that her heart skipped a beat upon meeting his eyes, and he was certainly the one who held authority at this table. It took a moment to gather her thoughts but when she did speak she was relieved her voice was filled with confidence. "Well first off, your accent betrays you, your clothes are made for bearing the weather of the sea, and anyone from around here knows that this here is my table and it is unwise to take it from me."

            The man grinned, he seemed to be impressed that she would mouth off to the likes of him. She had the impression that people who did wouldn't get off lightly for it. "Well lads, looks like this is a fiery one ehh? Sorry we took your table lass, but as you can see there's plenty of other spaces available to you, so if you don't mind..." he gestured to the other tables and Milah understood that he was dismissing her. She felt her face flush and was about to rebuke the man but was saved by one of his companions. "I don't know Captain, maybe this fine lady could join us. She might even tell us what good pickings there are around here."

            The stranger, a Captain, pretended to ponder his sailor's request for a moment before answering. "If the lady cares to join us then she may, what do you say lass?"

            Milah eyed the men warily before she took the seat in front of the Captain and next to the sailor who had requested she stay. Being this close to the Captain was slightly unnerving and she didn't know if she could find enough air to breathe, let alone give a proper response. "I suppose a little company wouldn't hurt..." she closed her hands around her mug. "So do you just go by 'Captain' or is there a name attached to that?" she asked of him.

            He was taking a swig of mead and set it down before replying, "The names Killian Jones." He raised his eyebrow, prompting her to give her own name.

            "Milah." she responded.

            "And what brings you to this fine establishment, lady Milah?" he waved his arms in a grand gesture, sarcasm lacing his voice.

            "Oh, you know, staying away from my husband, shirking responsibilities, that's just about it." She had hesitated before she answered, for some reason she didn't want him to know she was married. "Don't fancy him much do you, your husband?" he asked.

            "I would say not, that's why I am more often here then at my own home! This is much more my style!" she nodded towards the entire rest of the bar where people were engaged in drinking games and challenging each other with feats of strength.

            "Oh so the lady likes adventure, and a bit of danger perhaps?"

            "You could say so, unlike my husband. He's rather a coward -the village coward! And I'm stuck with him!" her voice was bitter.

            "Ah, it cant be all that bad." He answered, taking another swig.

            "It's a prison sentence." she replied harshly, gripping her mug tightly enough to make her knuckles whiten.

            "Sorry to hear that lass." Killian said, swirling his mead around. He hated to see anyone so unhappy. "Perhaps a tale would lift your spirits? How 'bout it men? Which one of our grand adventures shall it be?"

            Killian's men shouted out suggestions and soon enough they had begun weaving an incredible tale, each needing to put in their two cents worth. They told their stories- and she exchanged some in return.

            Milah laughed like she hadn't in a long time. The men were loose lipped and jolly from too much alcohol, each trying to one up each other to impress the lady in their presence.

            But what she liked most was Killian Jones. He laughed easily, making snarky comments and joking around with his men, clapping them on the back like old friends instead of just his crew. She listened more intently whenever he began to take over a tale and cheered for him whenever he won the dice game.

            She didn't realize she was falling for him until she noticed him glance a second to long at a blonde beauty across the bar, her insides flipping with jealousy.

            "Come on Killian, it's your turn." She called to him, fighting for his attention.

            "Aye it is!" He snapped back into focus, as he was handed the dice.

            "Oh!" they all cried, taking note of his bad roll.

            "Better luck next time." She reassured him, grabbing the dice and letting them bounce across the table. It was a winning roll. They all cheered, merrily toasting each other and gurgling in their drinks. Milah smiled, enjoying herself more than she had in a long time - Until _He_ came.

           "Milah." She heard him call. "Milah, it's time to go home." he said, spotting her at the end of the table.

            The joyous noise died down and Milah felt her cheeks flush in anger and embarrassment, exceedingly aware of all the eyes that focused on her. She looked away, unable to handle the pressure of living up to the expectations she had made for herself in front of these men.

            "Good. So go." she said indifferently, choosing to flaunt the "apathetic wife" persona she had displayed all evening. She wouldn't bow down to her husband's will, not here. She would have it be known that she was the power, the strength in this household, not this coward.

            "Who's this?" Killian asked, seemingly unconcerned. Milah was slightly disheartened that he didn't sound jealous as she hoped he would.

            "Ah, it's no one. It's just my husband." She said scornfully, looking him in the eye so that he knew she meant it - that he was nothing.      

            "Oh? Well he's a tad taller than you described!" Killian cracked, his men falling into little fits of laughter.

            Rumple shifted uncomfortably where he stood, daunted by the bigger men and dismayed that his wife wouldn't see reason. He was losing her. He could feel his sway lesson every passing moment.

            "Please, you have responsibilities." He tried to persuade her, but his voice was feeble and uncertain, it's power of influence equivalent to that of words falling against deaf ears.

            "You mean like being a man? And fighting in the ogre wars?" She whipped back. She would break him, tear him down and humiliate him in front of these men just as he had humiliated her. "Other wives became honored widows while I became lashed to the village coward. I need a break." she said with disgust, turning back to her drink. "Run home Rumple, its what your good at." She turned around to pour herself a drink, letting him know he was dismissed.

            "Mama?" A small voice cried above the loud atmosphere of the bar.

            "Bae? You were supposed to wait outside son." Rumple turned around to reveal a small child, his arm wrapping around his slight shoulders with fondness as he looked upon his boy.

            Milah set her drink down in alarm. She never would have said such things if she had known her son were here. With urgency she gathered her things and scrambled from the table to usher him outside, mortified by the situation and the fact that these men- and Killian- now knew that she had omitted the fact that she had a son. How did they see her now?

            It took no time at all for the sailors to continue their festivities, drinking and laughing as if nothing had gone amiss. Only Killian was silent, lost in thought as his eyes followed the small family walking out over the threshold.

           

            "Do you really wish I'd died?" Rumple asked quietly, afraid of the answer.

Milah was silent a moment as she turned the question over in her mind.

            She may not have loved him as a wife should have loved her husband, but they had once been friends- partners. And friends didn't wish for friends to die.

            They didn't intentionally make each other suffer either, as Rumple had done to her.

            "I wish you'd fought." She finally answered. It was the safest thing she could say. "Don't you?"

            "Well I'm alive. And I'm here with you, with Bae." He said softly. _And who said that was a good thing?_ she thought tiredly.

            "This isn't a life. Not for me. Why can't we just leave?" she pleaded, because perhaps she wouldn't feel so much animosity if she could have a fresh start.

            "We've talked about this." rumple answered, wary of broaching this subject again.

            "You don't have to be the village coward. We can start again, go somewhere no one knows us, see the whole world beyond this village." The thought was a wistful one. She knew, as she said it, that this wishful thinking would go nowhere.

            "I know this wasn't the life you wanted. But it can be good, here. At least try. If not for me then, for Bae." Rumple murmured, his voice falling like a caress as he fondly whispered his son's name. And it also held the sadness he had carried, because he knew she would never do it for him.

            "Ok." She sighed, halfheartedly. "I'll try." But her words were empty. She knew it was a lie, she had no intention of living this shadow of a life any longer.

           

           

            Milah waited until her husband had fallen asleep before slipping out under the cover of night. The floorboards creaked under her weight, the sound almost deafening in the silent house but she was able to make it out the door without incident.

            The air had become frosty and she could see her breath appear as plumes of white. With a sense of urgency she pulled her cloak tightly over her shoulders and headed to the bar, her feet padding quietly on the dirt floor.

            She could hear the drunken sounds that spilled out of the bar before she could properly see it. As she neared she could see the warm familiar glow that poured out the doors as it swung open, perfectly illuminating the long shadows of the person she had come to see, along with those of his men.

            "Killian!" She waved at him, as he and his men piled out the door, still laughing and nursing bottles of rum.

            "Oi, gents! Look who it is!" Killian turned around, grinning like a fool and slightly slurring his words. "It seems the lady hasn't had enough of us just yet. Tell me dear, to what do we owe the pleasure?"

            Milah forced herself to smile as she neared the sailors. "Actually, Killian, I was hoping to speak with you before you left. Alone."

"Oh? Is that so?" he raised a suggestive brow before turning back to his crew. "Well you heard the lady. Back to the ship with you!"  

            His men promptly left -snickering and chucking back whatever drink that remained in their flasks.

            Killian watched them go, waiting until they had wandered out of earshot before turning around to address the lady.

            "So what might your problem be, Lady Milah?" he asked, turning his head to the side, his fingers tapping his belt.

            Milah shocked into silence at the change he displayed within a few heartbeats. This wasn't the Killian Jones she had joked around with in the bar. He seemed to have immediately sobered up, his speech no longer slurred and the arrogant, reckless manner that he had portrayed in front of his men became soft and sincere.

            "Oh, I..." she babbled nervously, clearing her throat before she started again. "You saw him, my husband?" it was more of a statement.

            "Aye." Killian answered warily, not quite sure if he liked where this was going.

            "Then you know, you understand, why I cant be with him? Why I can't stay in this horrid excuse of a town? Can't you see that I don't have a life here?" her voice was becoming anxious, pleading.

            Killian didn't say anything, choosing to let her continue before he spoke.

            "I need to leave. To start over. I need to find an adventure-and someone to share it with." She paused reaching for Killian's hand.

            "Take me with you." She whispered earnestly.

            "Set me free."

            Killian gently tore his hand away and brought it to the bridge of his nose, letting loose a deep sigh as he prepared his next words.

            Milah felt her heart sink at the gesture, his actions reflecting that of someone bearing bad news.

            "Listen, Milah." He started, turning back to face her. "I had previously considered offering you passage to a nearby port aboard my ship. Give you a chance to start a new life, as it were. You see, as a man of honor- as a man with a code to uphold, I would normally be glad to assist any damsel in distress." He paused, making sure he still had her full attention, "But I could no longer do so in good conscience. Your husband was right. You have responsibilities here."

            He looked at her with his piercing eyes, willing her to understand what he meant.

            "Responsibilities? To _him_?" she said with disgust.

            "No. To your boy." He said sharply, watching as her eyes grew wide at the mention of her son. He had the feeling she had quite forgotten about him. The thought caused a flare of anger to spring up within his chest. "You can not abandon your son." he said, punctuating his words, pointing his finger downwards for emphasis. "A boy needs his mother."

            "I can take him with me." She replied defiantly, albeit unconvincingly.

            "Oh? Will you now?" He asked, sarcasm dripping its way into his voice. "Into what? A life on the run? A life of uncertainty?"

            "If I must." she said, jutting her chin forward.

            Killian chuckled darkly "I failed to mention that a boy needs his father too- no matter how cowardly he is. And if their behavior during their short appearance is any indication, I think you will find that you can not easily part father and son."

            "I can take him in the cover of night. Rumple will never know, at least not until it's too late."

            Killian folded his arms, regarding her with a coldness she didn't know he could muster. "Has it ever occurred to you that fleeing -with your son or not- was the real act of cowardice?" He was pleased by the open-mouthed stunned expression on her face. "Either way, I stand by decision." He continued, "Do what you must -but I will not be a part of it. I will not be the cause of a broken family, leaving that child to fend for himself on the streets, all alone thinking nobody cares for him. Farewell, Lady Milah," He brusquely ended the discussion, giving her a hard stare before turning away and heading to the docks.

            "No! Please! Killian wait!" she instantly followed him, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder to keep him from going any further.

            "It's Captain Jones." He said harshly, and as her fingers fell from his shoulder he stepped off again, his boots crunching along the gritty path.

            Milah watched him go, hurt and confused. She didn't know his heated words were spoken out of his own experience. She couldn't understand that these were the words of a child abandoned and lost. She only understood her own pain.

           

            Milah was trekking down the dark and narrow path to her home, deep in thought over her sorrows and regrets, oblivious to the scuffling noises behind her until a voice spoke very near to her ear.

            "Are you in trouble my poor girl?" It rasped, sending chills down her spine

            The beginning of Milah's shriek was cut short as the stranger waved their hand, the sound immediately dying the moment it tried to escape her lips.

            The old hag, for the voice belonged to a wrinkled and bent old woman, began to cackle at Milah's sudden fright.

            "Who are you! What do you want from me?" Milah spat, surprised that she could speak once more.

            "Now, now child." she laughed still, "Is that any way to speak to your...Fairy Godmother?"

            "Fairy Godmother?" Milah asked, unimpressed, missing the hesitation between the witch's words. She been under the impression that fairies were supposed to be young and beautiful, not dressed in rags and twisted like a dead tree as this creature was.

            "Oh, I know, I know. Where's my wand? Where's my wings? Don't let your be fooled by you're eyes girl, they will lead you astray."

            "I'm not a _girl_." Milah retorted, having nothing better to say to the old woman.

            "Ah, yes, I can see that- wench it is then." The crone circled around, taunting her as Milah could only glare. "But I'm not here to insult you dear, no. I'm here to help you."

            "Help me? Help me what?"

            The shriveled woman began to laugh at the maiden's stupidity. "Help you with what?! Tell me girl, what is it you want most? What was it you were pleading the pirate for?"

            Milah looked down, feeling inferior next to the older woman. "And how would you help me?" Milah whispered, afraid to feel hope at this new opportunity.

            "With magic of course, how else girl?" The woman hissed.

            "Magic?" Milah hadn't dealt with magic before, knew it was something best avoided, and yet she couldn't deny the temptation of what it might offer her.

            "Yes, magic. Tell me girl, are you adverse to making deals in the dark? I can grant your wish, give you your freedom that you so desire- for a small fee of course."

            "Can you, really?" Milah asked, ignoring the prickling feeling that crawled underneath her skin.

            "Oh, yes dear, I can. And so much more. Freedom, love, riches..." She said, a malevolent grin spreading across her face as she saw a spark of greed and desire light in Milah's eyes.

            "And what would be the price?" Milah asked.

            "Oh, I don't require much. Just a trifling thing."

            "What is it?" Milah demanded.

            "Hmmm." She pretended to think, "Would a lock of your son's hair be a reasonable price?"

            "What do you want with his hair? What will it do to him?" her motherly concern began to show itself.

            "Oh it won't harm him a bit dear. But a single lock of hair from a child so innocent and young will prove to be very potent in many spells indeed."

            Milah looked down, processing the woman's words. It was then that it really hit her that she really would have to leave her child, her sweet little Bae...

            "I can see you are having doubts, perhaps I can offer you a new deal?" The witch cooed as Milah shifted uneasily.

            "What would that be?" she asked again, wondering if this new deal would be any better.

            "You suffer because of your husband's reputation, I propose we put him through a test. If he passes, you will be able to continue your life here but without the burden you carry."

            "And if he fails?" she asked, worried.

            "Well then, my dear, we continue with the original plan. You will leave this life and go with the pirate you so desire to be with."

            "Killian won't have me." she looked down, reminded of his words that still stung.

            "Well that's where the magic comes in my sweet. The pirate will have you, if that is what you wish. Do we have a deal?" she asked, extending her wrinkled hand.

            Milah looked down at it, the pressure of this decision weighing heavily on her chest, making it hard to breathe. Her freedom was so close...

            "Deal." she said decidedly, taking the proffered arm.

            "One more thing dear." The crone pulled her closer. "I will require something eh, _special_ , for this to work."

            "Anything." She whispered earnestly.

            "The heart of the person you hate the most." she cackled.

            Milah smiled. This was easy. "'You'll find him across the river."

"Certainly child. I'll collect it, and when the time is right I will come find you." The hag started to shuffle away."

            "Wait!" Milah called after her. "What is your name?"

            The woman turned slowly a chilling grin spread across her wrinkled and mottled face. "Why it's Madame Mims, of course." and she with a curtsy, and disappeared in a cloud of dirty pink smoke.

           

            Milah didn't see the witch for several more days. In the meantime she had busied herself as usual and kept to her chores. When she stopped for her daily drink at the bar she had eyed Killian and his crew from a dark and secluded corner, where she could see without being seen.

            He never looked for her.

            Impatience sat on Milah's shoulder like a heavy dwarf. She was gathering water at the well, struggling as she often did to heave up the blasted bucket when the weight disappeared, sending her sprawling backwards into the witch who appeared out of the pink smoke, thte bucket at her side.

            "Where were you?!" Milah snarled after she regained some of her composure. "I've been waiting for days and you haven't shown a whiff of yourself! How am I supposed to get a better life when I'm sitting here like a dog fetching water while I wait for you?!"

            Mims chuckled at her outburst. "You think it's easy collecting chimera blood and the eye of a viper? Not to mention that heart. These things take time dear, and timing is everything."

            "What do you mean?"

            "Tisk, tisk dear, so simple-minded. I needed to gather ingredients of course."

            "Ingredients? For what?"

            "For this." She held up a vile she had whisked from her cloak. It was a deep blood red, glowing darkly so that it seemed tinged with blackness. "This is your backup plan my sweet. Should your husband fail his test we shall resort to this."

            Milah reached for the vile but the witch quickly snatched her arm back. "What do you think your doing?" she hissed.

            "Well you said that-"

            "That this was the back up plan. You have no need for it yet, not unless your husband fails the test- which begins now." She turned around in a hurry, leaving Milah to follow her wake, abandoning the bucket. Milah jogged to catch up to her. She was surprisingly fast.

            "As I said dear, timing is everything, and mine is impeccable. The pirates are preparing to set sail this morning."

            "How is that a good thing?" She screeched, "If anything I'd say your late!"

            "You'd make a fine white rabbit indeed dear." she said offhandedly.

            "You shall see dear, the pirates will prove to be Rumpelstiltskin' test and final chance. Should he fail, you shall go on your way along with the tide.

            Milah opened her mouth to ask another question but the witch silenced with a wave of her hand. "No more questions girl. From her on out you shall see and not ask. Now do you have my payment?" Milah nodded and tore off a small pouch she had tied to her belt, handing it to the witch.

            "Excellent." Mims purred, examining its contents. "We shall begin."

            They had arrived at Milah's cottage, and with a wave of her hand Mims changed her appearance. Milah gasped as her features shifted from shriveled in wrinkled to full and taller, complete with dirty blond locks and ratty dress.

            "You look like-"

            "The baker's wife?" she said with an honest voice. "Indeed, now don't make a sound until my business is finished." Another flick of her wrist in Milah's direction and she found that she was invisible.

            Mims turned away and towards the door, rapping her knuckles against the solid wood.

            It wasn't moments before Rumple answered the door.

            "Rumpelstiltskin, you need to get to the docks now." Milah heard her say as soon as the door opened.

            "The docks? Why?" She could already hear the fear in his voice after listening to Mims' urgent voice.  

            "The men who came into port last week, they've taken Milah!" she continued. "They're setting sail, you must hurry!"

            Milah peered in closer. She could see the fear pass across Rumple's face as he digested this information. What would he do? Milah didn't know if she wanted him to pass the test and stand up for her or to fail and crawl back into the hovel like the coward she knew he was.

            Rumple still stood, frozen. "I'll have to find her." he said in a terrified whisper, and disappeared back into the cottage before reappearing a moment later. "Bae is asleep. He should be fine but please tell him I'll be back soon if he gets up." He told Mims, hobbling away after she had given him and affirming nod in reply.

            "Is that it? Did he pass the test?" Milah asked hysterically after he had gone. She now knew that she wanted him to fail.

            "No dear, the final part is coming up soon. Just you wait." She said, and waved her hands so that they were enveloped in the pink smoke.

            When it cleared Milah found herself on the docks next to a ship busy with men coming up and down the gangplank.

            "Is this-?"

            "Of course, of course! Why else would we be here?" Mims said impatiently. This really was a stupid girl. "Come along now." she said, moving towards the gangplank.

            It took Milah a moment to realize that they were both invisible. And because of this she had to be cautious of bumping into another person. Carefully, she made her way to the helm besides Mims, where they could stand out of the way.

            "There's your Captain" the witch pointed, and Milah followed her finger. "Just keep an eye on him and we will find out if Rumpelstiltskin can break his cowardice ways." Milah happily obliged.

            It wasn't long before Rumpelstiltskin came stumbling onto the deck, tripping over the threshold so that his cane sprawled out before him. The crew of the Jolly Roger laughed at his misfortune. Milah looked on in amusement, feeling no pity for her husband.

           "On your feet for the Captain!" one of the men shouted.

            Rumpelstiltskin lay shocked on the deck until two pairs of hands grasped his shoulders, hauling him up from the ground and placing his cane in his shaking hands.             Killian stood against the mast, eying the older man with the smug look that his crew expected him to show.

            "I remember you, from the bar." Rumple said, pointing to Captain earnestly once he had regained his composure.

            "Always nice to make an impression." Killian said, looking around as his crew laughed at the quip. It's not that he meant to be uncouth, but it wouldn't do well to look soft in front of his crew. He had a reputation to uphold. He trusted less than half his men, and even though he had their respect, if he showed anything but the image of a ruthless captain in front of them he could very well have a mutiny on his hands. And he wouldn't risk the chance of losing his ship.

            "Well where are my manners?" He continued with the charade. "We haven't been formally introduced. Killian Jones. Now, what are you doing aboard my ship?" It was an honest question. There was no need for him to be here, on his ship. And to say he was surprised would be an understatement. He didn't think the man ventured past the threshold of his home too often.

            "Well uh, you have my wife." The man said with a slight quiver in his voice.

            Ah, so that was it. Killian thought, reminded of the black-haired maiden that pleaded for an escape. She must have run away and used him as a distraction too, no doubt. Used him as a means to throw her cowardly husband off her trail.

            "Well I've had many a man's wife." He said, getting more laughs, and he wondered at how easy it was to get them to believe this pretense.

            "Well you, well you see we have a son, and he need's his mother." Rumple pleaded, struggling to find his words.

            "Well you see I have a ship full of men who need - companionship." The crew laughed and hoorayed, assuring Killian that he was doing well in their eyes.

            " I, I, I, I'm begging you" Rumple stammered, "please, let her go."

            Now Killian was at a cross tie. He didn't have the man's wife, but he couldn't just apologize for that fact and send him along on his merry way. He would lose credibility, authority. There was only one way to play this.

            "I'm not much for bartering, that said, I do consider myself an honorable man- a man with a code, so, if you truly want your wife back, all you have to do is take her." The hiss of steel sounded across the deck as he drew out his cutlass, another sword clanging against the floorboards as a crewman dropped his at the stranger's feet.

            Killian knew he wouldn't take it, if the reputation that proceeded him was true. He'd hate to have blood on his hands. Especially when there was a child that needed his parents.

            "Never been in a dual before I take it?" He taunted, watching the Rumple stare at the object with obvious fear and hesitation. "Well Its quite simple really, the pointy end goes in the other guy." More laughs. It really was to easy.

            "Go on, pick it up." He said, hoping to get a little resistance, for this man's sake. He wanted him to at least show an ounce of courage, to prove that he could be worthy of a second chance.

            But Rumpelstiltskin was frozen with fear.

            "A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets." Killian growled, turning away, surprised that he was slightly disappointed.

            "Please sir, what am I going to tell my boy?" Rumple, cried out, his voice rising in desperation and pain.

"Try the truth - his fathers a coward." That was the end of it. Rumple was dismissed and now Killian could continue as normal.

            "Raise the sails!" He shouted, and watched as the men scrambled to their posts with an aye-aye Captain!

            Something about this encounter had left Captain Jones with a lingering feeling of dejection. It had hit a little to close to home, but at least this father made an effort to save the mother, too make a better living for his child. Even if it was a meager attempt. It was still more than his father ever did.

            Sighing, the Captain decided there was no more to be done above deck, and as the ship began to roll along with the tide he wearily dragged himself to his quarters.

           

            "Looks like we will be using this after all." The witch said, holding up the vial for Milah to see. It shone as darkly as ever.

            "What must I do?" Milah asked, feeling herself being drawn to whatever magic swirled in the vial.

            "You will do nothing dear. You couldn't handle this yourself." she cackled, using magic to transport them to the Captain's cabin. "He will show up soon enough, and when he does, I'd prefer it if you'd stay silent."

            Milah nodded. "But what is it? How is it going to help me?"

Mims sighed in irritation. "Don't you pay attention girl? It's your ticket out of here! A love potion!"

            "A love potion? You mean for Killian? So he will take me?" She asked in shock, though her voice held the slightest tinge of excitement.

            "Now your getting it! Although, in truth, id say its more of a curse." Taking in Milah's puzzled look she decided to explain, sparing herself from that irritating voice of hers. "Well you didn't think forced love was a blessing did you? No, this doesn't come from the heart - it's not true. This is the Curse of the Empty Hearted, clouding the mind so that the victim believes they are in love. A blind love, if you will. He won't know the difference."

            "So he won't really love me, it would all be a trick?" she asked, her head dipping a little as she noted the significance behind her words."

            "Ah, yes. It's a trick. But isn't it worth it? It's better than real love -for you. You can't get hurt. He'll never disappoint you. He will be yours, forever. All you have to do, is give it to him." She whispered temptingly, raising the bottle to eye level.

            "I guess, I guess it can do no harm." Milah said, gingerly gripping it between her fingers."

            "That's right. Take it dear. But a word of caution. You see-"

            The door to the cabin suddenly swung open, cutting the witch short.

            Both women whipped around to see the stunned expression of Killian Jones, each person frozen where they stood for what seemed like a short lifetime.

            "You." Killian spoke, his voice accusing. "What the bloody hell are you doing on my ship? I thought I made myself clear on where I stand. "

            "But Killian, you saw him, you saw what he was like. I cant go back to that - that life!" Milah argued, her voice rising.

            "Enough! And I don't allow stow-aways on my ship. Were heading back to port." He said definitely, turning back to the doorway. His hand hadn't grasped the knob when he felt a tingling sensation run up his arm, then through his whole body, rendering him still.

            "Oh no dear, we're not heading back to port." a hissing voice said from behind him. His body involuntarily whipped around so that he faced to two women, the old bent crone coming ever closer.

            "No, what you are going to do, is drink this." She said, holding up the vial.

            "If you think I'm going to take anything from you, well then, your quite mistaken m'lady." He said with a confident smirk, although he felt he would have little choice if it was the woman's wish.

            The woman laughed, causing shivers to crawl down his spine. It was a horrible, deathly sound.

            "Killian, please." Milah, walked over, taking the potion as it was handed to her. "You have to take this. It's my only chance." She looked into his eyes, scanning his face for any signs of a weakening resolve , but all she saw was his stubborn determination.

            He said nothing but held her with a steely gaze, refusing to back down.

            Milah's anger flared at his callousness.

            "Fine then, pirate." she spat, her temper getting the best of her. "If you don't drink this then I'll...I'll." She stammered, trying to come up with a threat.

            "I'll kill your men. Slowly." Mims grinned maliciously, trailing out the last word as if she were savoring its taste on her tongue. "And if that's not enough, I'll sink your precious ship."

            Killian would have whipped out his sword and sliced her head off if he could move, but instead he settled for a glare, pouring as much venom into that one look as he could muster.  

            "But if you drink this, well I'll spare them." He couldn't help but notice that she seemed a little disappointed at the thought, as if she were missing out on a game.

            Killian glanced at the small bottle that Milah held before him, wondering how drinking it would solve her problems.

            Looking into it's dark swirling depths he thought it might be poison, but if they meat to kill him it would have been much easier to use a blade considering the fact that he was currently immobile.

            "What will this do to me?" He asked, deciding that was the only way to get answers.

            "You'll have to drink it to find out." Milah responded.

            A huff of irritation escaped his lips. He decided that whatever was in the bottle would not kill him, and if drinking it was the price he had to pay for saving his crew and his ship then...

            He felt his limbs returning to his control again, the spell releasing him after he made his decision.

            "It would seem that I am to drink this after all." he alleged, roughly snatching the vial from Milah hands.

            He popped the cork and held it hesitantly against his lips, taking a deep breath before throwing his head back and downing the bitter drink.

            The tingle of magic coursed through his veins, and he grimaced at the prickling sensation. His senses were overwhelmed, everything seemed to be in a state of a disorientating, swirling motion, and the colors of black and red flitted behind his eyelids.

            Suddenly his eyes flew open in horror as he realized what had been done. Milah glanced at him, instantly regretting it once she saw the pained look of utter betrayal that flashed in the blue depths of his eyes.

            The witch laughed at his stricken face. "Ah yes, fight it! It's no use. The feeling won't go away, you cant reason your way out of these feelings."

            "It's no matter." He growled, glancing at Milah. And though she could still see his anguish and loathing directed at her, at the loss of his will, she could see the longing that had come to join it when their eyes met. "What I feel is of no consequence. This changes nothing."

            "We shall see." Mims chuckled, and waved her hand before his face.

            Killian Jones promptly collapsed.

            "What did you do to him?" Milah shrieked, kneeling beside him, running one hand over his brow.

            "Don't worry dear, he's merely asleep. When he comes too he wont remember this whole ordeal."

            Milah glanced up at the woman concern written on her face.

            "Now come here dear, there is one more thing I must tell you. It's of great importance."

            With a last glace at the pirate Milah stood and made her way over to where the witch now sat at the table.

            "Listen carefully girl. I will not repeat myself." She started, "Any curse can be broken by true love's kiss. But this curse, is slightly different, a bit sensitive. As I said before, this love doesn't come from the heart, but the mind. You see, the mind is easy to fool, but the heart - well the heart is a fickle thing."

            Milah leaned in, absorbing the information but dreading what was about to come next.

            "If his true love ever reveals herself then his heart will begin to overpower the mind, and the curse will lift. No kiss necessary."

            "Well how do I stop that from happening?" She asked panic rising in her voice. She had just got what she wanted, and now she was told that there was a chance she could lose it all?

            "I suggest you don't let him near other women!" she laughed. "It wont be so hard in the open ocean..." she mused for a moment. "Well girl, my end of the deal is done.

And good riddance too! I don't think I can handle any more of your whiney voice." She croaked, hastily standing up and heading for the door.

            "Wait! But what if I need you? What am I supposed to do when he wakes up?" She pointed to where the captain still lay on the floor behind her.

            "Then be clever." She called back, disappearing into her pink smoke as she crossed the threshold.

            Milah stood by the door, unsure of what to do now that she was here.

            A groan alerted her of the waking captain as she quickly ran over to kneel at his side.

            "Killian!" She exclaimed, helping him to sit up.

            "Milah!" he gasped, touching her arm as if to see if she was really there. "How did you get here lass?"

            She couldn't respond, too transfixed by his touch, his nearness, and the overwhelming look of love that danced across his eyes.

            "Never mind, it doesn't matter." He said as he stood, holding her hands so that she came up with him. "But I'm glad you're here. I didn't mean it- what I said outside the tavern. I've come to realize that I need you, Milah. A brave, courageous woman who will share adventures with me, out there, in the world. What do you say lass? Come with me?"             There was an uncertainty in his voice, as if he were afraid she would say no, that she would turn him down. And he didn't think he could bare that pain. Because if there was one thing he knew, it was that he loved this woman, and he would gladly die for her.

            Milah smiled. She could see all this written across his face, and as she nodded a wide grin spread across his face.

            She did it. She was free. She could live the life of adventure she always wanted. No responsibilities. No cowardly husband bringing her down and soiling her name. No more slights, no more shame. And now she also had Killian Jones.

           

            A heart lay in the palm of his hand. Her heart, she realized as she fell back, her

limbs to weak to support her. Familiar warm arms came up around her as she felt the life drain from her body.

            Killian. It was Killian.

            She looked up, already seeing grief well behind his blue eyes as he realized he was about to lose her forever.

            And it was her fault, his pain. He would grieve her forever, never being able to let go because that was what her curse did. It was an unconditional and everlasting love that would make him hers forever, and she had no way to set him free.

            He would go on mourning a lie. Mourning someone he never truly loved.

            He didn't deserve this. She knew the good man hiding beneath the facade of a fearsome pirate. Knew that he always meant well and now she had doomed his loving heart into a well of misery that he never should have known.

            She regretted her decision to make the selfish choice. But it was to late. She couldn't take back what she had done.

            She could only hope that he would find _her_. That he could find one that would save him from her curse, because she wanted him to be happy, to feel real love.

            "I love you." she said, trailing her finger across his cheek, because that was the one thing that was true. And those were her last words.

            She couldn't have known that she had killed Killian Jones that day.

            The man who stood there now had the same face, the same voice, the same manner. But Killian Jones was gone. His heart had sunk along with Milah, down to the dark crushing depths of the ocean that no light could touch.

            In his place stood Hook.

 

           

            The first thing he noticed were the blond locks that fell across her face, more precious than gold and soft as silk. Then it was her eyes, which sparkled and glinted like emeralds underneath her ebony lashes. And it didn't take long for him to realize that her tongue proved to be sharper than a silver dagger, darting behind lips of ruby red. Her skin -flawless as a pearl. But what was most enticing was her heart. Strong and pure as a diamond. A pirate's treasure indeed.

            She was stubborn, infuriating, but he wouldn't back down from a challenge. He enjoyed it really.

            Over time he found he couldn't help but smile when she was around, the weight on his heart lifting every time she matched his teasing with her quick wit and he found himself drawn to her even as she pushed him away.

            Even when she had him feeling tired, and ragged, beat down with either her fist or the responsibilities she placed down on his shoulders, he felt more at home then he had in years. She made him feel like he could belong.

            It wasn't until her lips met his in a searing kiss that the final remnants of his burden fell away, and he realized that Killian Jones might not be dead after all. Maybe he just needed a light that would guide him back to the ocean's surface. And Emma Swan was that sunshine that pierced the darkness beneath the thundering waves of his heart, Bright as day and brilliant as the Sun. She was the savior. His Savior. She had brought Killian Jones back to life.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Any questions? Like about the heart or anything? It's a pretty complicated story so if you want to get deeper into the reasoning just ask cuz I couldn't put everything in here. Too much to write!


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